


C**t Collector

by kathkin



Series: Summerpornathon 2014 [8]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Community: summerpornathon, F/F, Scissoring, implied infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 11:54:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2268747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathkin/pseuds/kathkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Elena had always been a collector. When she was a kid she used to collect comics; when she got older she collected sports memorabilia; and now she collected...</i> Elena likes to take pictures. Vivian pretends she doesn't enjoy the attention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	C**t Collector

**Author's Note:**

> For Challenge 5 at [summerpornathon](http://summerpornathon.livejournal.com): Snatch. (Placed second!)

Elena had always been a collector. When she was a kid she used to collect comics; when she got older she collected sports memorabilia; and now she collected cunts.

Not in a creepy dismembered-body-parts-in-jars way; she just collected memories, and sometimes – “is it okay if I take pictures?”

She already had a hand curled around her phone. Vivian looked down at her, flushed pink, her hair falling out of its neat bun in trailing strands. “Seriously? You weirdo.”

“It’s not like I share them.” She was very careful. She had a special password-protected folder and everything. “No faces, and they’ll go straight onto my computer.”

Vivian rolled her eyes in an exaggerated display of reluctance. “ _Fine_ ,” she sighed.

She flopped back on the bed, head against her floral-printed pillows, and spread her legs. Elena settled between them, thumbing open the camera. She didn’t always take pictures, mind – sometimes she felt weird asking and sometimes she was just too drunk – but Vivian just had such a pretty pussy. All pink and perfect, shaved ever so neatly – everything about Vivian was so neat and tidy – whorled like a special, secret fingerprint between her legs. 

Elena snapped a couple of pictures of it, turning the flash on to capture the glisten of wetness, then touched her, spreading her apart, exposing her hot dark-pink cunt. She took a picture, and another.

“Are you _quite_ finished?” said Vivian. She was inspecting her nails, feigning boredness. As if she wasn’t enjoying the attention. Vivian loved having her picture taken.

“Almost.” Elena pushed her fingers deeper, deeper, sliding them up inside Vivian, making her gasp; and she took a picture of Vivian like that, her tight pussy spread wide about Elena’s stubby fingers.

Vivian said, “you’re done.” She pried Elena’s phone out of her unresisting fingers and tossed it down her king-sized bed. She rolled Elena over and straddled her, her tits bouncing against her chest as she moved. “And if you share those pictures with _anyone_ , I will _ruin_ you.”

She could, as well. Vivian’s dad was in the House of Lords. If she put her mind to it, Elena was sure Vivian could ruin any future career she might have. “Noted,” she said; and she spread her own legs, tangling them about Vivian’s.

“Lube,” said Vivian breathily.

(She swore that she hadn’t done more than kiss a girl until that evening; swore that Elena was the first girl she’d ever fucked. But Elena had known it was a lie even before Vivian was licking her pussy with a kind of precision that would only come with practice. Vivian knew exactly what she was doing.)

The lube was on Vivian’s nightstand, next to a lamp with a shade that matched her bed sheets and a photo of her with – was that her boyfriend? Elena hadn’t asked and wasn’t going to. She uncapped the bottle and drizzled lube between her legs, wincing at the coldness. 

Vivian was arranging herself, leaning backwards, her hands flat on the bed. Elena had barely got the cap back on the bottle when Vivian was pressed her smooth, shaved pussy up against herself.

For all the girls she fucked, she didn’t do this very often – because logistics, and because Elena’s type of girl tended to be more into receiving oral than anything else, which she was fine with. But here they were, Vivian grinding her cunt against Elena’s like she’d done it a hundred times, and Elena could hardly breathe. The room was full of the wet, lewd sounds of their bodies moving together, and Vivian’s gasping breaths; and it was making her head spin.

Vivian said, “ _yes_ , that’s nice,” and she shifted, shifted so that she was grinding right up against Elena’s clit, so that Elena cried out, clenching her fingers against Vivian’s pink and white duvet, screwing the cloth into balls in her fists.

She was so wet she was dripping. She felt herself dripping, liquid streaking hot down her thigh, and the sensation was enough to tip her over the edge. She came, her eyes tight shut, her cunt clenching and unclenching, thrumming with it.

When she opened her eyes, Vivian’s head was tossed back, and she was gasping, gasping, as she came, her cunt pressed raw and hot against Elena’s.

They sat a moment, their pussies still touching lightly, throbbing; and then Vivian disentangled herself and reached for Elena’s phone. Ignoring Elena’s protests – she hated people looking at her pictures – she thumbed open the gallery and scrolled through the pictures of her own cunt. “These are pretty,” she remarked, as if she was looking at photos of, like, flowers, or paintings in an art gallery. “I like this one.” She tossed Elena her phone, a photo on the screen, a photo of Elena’s fingers buried to the knuckle in Vivian’s cunt.


End file.
